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REV. HENRY W. E. JONES, 



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CAPT. flMKON A. MELLiOK, 



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IX THE SEEVICK OV HIS GOUNTUY AT FORTRESS MONKOE, VA. 



JULY 30, 1862. 



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COl'Y OF I'REAMBM-: AND KKSOLl'TFONS 



ADOI'TKI) HY TIIF- 



YOUNG MEN^S ASSOCIATION OF BERGEN POINT, N. J., 



MEETING HELD AUG. 11, 1862. 



'' Whereas^ It is our earnest desire, as an Association, in every 
proper way to sliow our respect for the memory of our late friend 
and fellow-member, Capt. Simeon A. Mellick, our heartfelt sym- 
pathy for his family, and our submission to the teachings of Al- 
midity God in this His Providence ; and feeling that these ends 
cannot better be furthered than by the perpetuation, so far as 
possible, of the tender and impressive sermon, which was deliv- 
ered at the funeral by Rev. H. W. F. Jones, and so appropri- 
ately enforced in the short and solemn address of Ilev. Mr. 
Jaggar, both Honorary members of our Association, therefore 
be it 

Eesolved, That this Association, witli the assent of Rev. Mr. 
Jones, will have published in pamphlet form, 300 copies of his 
sermon above referred to, for distribution among the friends of 
the late Capt. Mellick, and the members of this Association. 
And be it further 

Rewlvcd^ That the President be, and is hereby authorized to 
appoint a committee of four to carry this resolution into otfect." 



Copy of coiTCspondeace betwccu Rev. H. W. F. Jones and 
the Committee of the " Young Men's Association." 



Bergkx Point, August 12th, 1S62. 
llcv. H. W. F. Jones. 

. Rev. and Dear Sir : — We beg to refer you to the enclosed 
copy of a preamble and resolutions unanimously adopted at the 
regular meeting of the " Young Men's Association," held last 
evening ; in accordance with which we now respectfully solicit a 
copy of your sermon, there referred to. Assuring you of our 
full belief that this action will be giatifving to the bereaved fam- 
ily and friends, and productive of true and lasting benefit to all, 
and especially to the young, of this community ; and hoping that 
this consideration will outweigh any feeling of delicacy which 
might render you averse to the publication, 
We are. 

Very Respectfully, 

D. W. C. Morris, Chairman 

Robert Currie, ] ex off. 

John Paret, Jr., | 
Chas. S. Noe, \ 

Jahial Parmly, Jr. J 



Comm'Ukc. 



Reply. 
Bergen Point, N. J., Aug. 13th, 1862. 



Messrs I). W. C. Morris, Robert Currie, J. Paret, Jr., 
C. S. Noe, and J. Parmly, Jr. : 
Gentlemen^ — Your note containing copy of re.-;olutions passed 
by the " Young Men's Association," and requesting that I would 
furnish you a copy of the sermon preached at the funeral of our 



late mutual friend Capt. Mellick, for publication, has just been 
received. I cheerfully accede to this request for the reasons you 
state, and for those alone. Were I to consult my own feelings, 
apart from theso considerations, and perhaps I might add my own 
credit too, I should demur at having so crude and hasty a pro- 
duction come before the public. Written, as it was, at the close 
of a week of labor at the pulpit, and press of other pastoral 
duties, I candidly confess that it falls far short of what such a 
sermon ought to be, even in my estimation. But as I have 
l'.nirned to look to other than human judgment for approval of 
my poor ejfforts to advance the Redeemer's kingdom, I send it to 
you with the less reluctance. In whatever else it may be want- 
ing, I feel assured that it is not wanting in either sincerity of 
feeling, or sincerity of intention for good. Trusting that its peru- 
sal, blessed by the Spirit of God, may result in this to all, and 
especially to the young, I am, Your friend and brother, 

H. W. F. JONF.S. 



SERMON. 



"there is but a step r.ETWEEN ME AND DEATH." 

I Sam., xx 



So the fugitive David declared to his fiiciid Jonathan, when 
his life was sought by the jealous king of Israel, and luuited 
from place to place, he felt the terrible uncertainty (that always 
gathers about death,) intensified to a painful degree iii his cir- 
cumstances ; and doubtless also he realized the solemnity of the 
ever present fact This was emphatically true of David, but it has 
lost none of its truth, as it has come traveling down to us through 
the lapse of centuries. It is still the inspired word of God ; 
it is still true. Death is still here, and it is still but a step be- 
tween it and any of us. It matters little how men may seek to 
wind around this great fact their fine-spun but cobweb theories of 
its origin, nature and results ; it is of little moment that they 
endeavor to bind around the arms of this enemy of our race their 
long-drawn metaphysical chains of argument ; that they heap up 
around him the earth-works of their reason and intellectual might, 
(that they may hide him from sight as he is ) It is all in vain ; 
they cannot blunt the point of his shaft, nor detract from the 
strength of his bow in the one case, nor in the other, prevent him 
from breaking the chains like thread, and crushing down under 
his feet all their opposition, and striding a victor to his work, 
slaying on the right hand and on the left. 



The tiuth, " thou shalt ilie," was flashed into (»ur world by the 
sword of the Angel that kept tlie " tree of life," and has been 
reflected back to us from evcy corpse, from every open grave — 
and is flitfinu- before our eyes every day of our existence. And 
yet how common it is for us to put far off" the evil day, as regards 
our personal concern with it ; to look upon it as a fact w^hich we 
dare not, we cannot gainsay ; but still a fact, in the dim future, 
imdefined and unreal : and, notwithstanding that the attendants 
of death, sickness, pain and disease, are constantly reminding us 
that their master Ls coming, coming, surely coming, still we but 
too often persist in the stranger delusion that the premonition 
means something else to us than death ; at least, this is a fair 
conclusion to be drawn from the little effect that is pioduced on 
us by these things. 

How few comparatively ever seem really to realize that there 
is but a step, a single step between them and death, that even 
while they are looking forward into life, death may be at their 
elbow, pointing downward into eternity. 

We know of no circumstances in Avhich death is any other than 
a solemn event. Even in those instances when the body, worn 
out with age and disease, seems to im'ite death to come ; even 
when the l)right hope of thi" christian kindh^s with a strange light 
the fading eye, and loosens the stcimmei-ing tongue in sweet words 
of praise, and death is a welcome friend ; even then a deep 
solemnity settles upon all who come in contact with it, as they 
feel the chilly gloom stealing over them, and shutting out the 
light of life, as the rising cloud shuts out the sunlight of day. 

But what peculiar awe falls upon us, (if we are not stone,) in 
the death of the young — and especially, in the sudden death of 
the young man ! Wliat an illustration of the truth of the text ! 
What a commentary upon it is siuli an event ! We expect to 
see the exiuiustod fountain stop flowing; we expect to .see the o/tl 



tree fall to tlio iiTomi<l— we cxpet-t to see the (if^cd innn die ; 
when these events occur, we ask no exphiuation of the cause — it 
is evident enough. But to behold the fountain that wells np to 
the brink with its civstal treasure, foi-fret to ])0ur it forth ; to be- 
hold tli'>» yonnij: and vin'orous tree pi-ostrate ; to Ix'hold tin' young 
and strouix man just enteriuL' upon his course, with hi,Ldi resolves 
and purposes, dio]i suddenly into the grave, thinking to take a 
step into life, but stopped, with foot suspended, by death ! this is 
startling, because unexpected and unnatural ; and we s.ndc an 
explanation. We ask, " Why is this .-" 

[t is not my purpose at this time to enter into any explanation 
of the cause of the presence of death in our world, for you are 
not ignorant of it. It is the momentous /c/r/ with which wc have 
now to do — that death is the portion of us all ; and that as we 
have gathered here to-day in sorrow, to pay the last triljute of 
respect to the dead, so others will gather about our cold remains. 

Shrink not back, shudder not, while deyilh converses awhile 
with you, for it is the part of rational beings to become acquaint- 
ed with one they cannot shun. Who can tell but that the 
acquaintance thus formed over an open grave, may, through the 
blessing of Him that met the last enemy and vanquished him for 
his people, ripen into a calm contemplation, if not a welcome 
friendship .- It is not only proper, but eminently ]>rofitable, 
when we are the subjects of the afflictive dispen.sations of God, to 
look at that which bows us down with grief, and see how we may 
extract that spiritual good from it which is enclosed in it 

We may have to look through bitter tears ; but still, let 
us look, for God's finger is here. Let us hearken, for God is 
speaking ; and these extreme exhibitions of his ]n-ovidence, if not 
beneficial, arc sure to be detrimental. If they do not soften 
our hearts, they always harden them more than before. It 
seems to me that the language of the text, coupled with that 



10 



solemn admonition of the Saviour's, "Be ye also ready, for in 
such an hour as ye think not, the Son of man comelh," heard on 
such an occasion as this, is a voice of earnest warning, with a 
reason for it. It sounds in every ear, stands before every eye, 
should touch every heart, for it is applicable to every person ; 
and while therefore each one of us, young, and old, and middle- 
aged, may take from this event a lesson to be deeply pondered 
and never forgotten ; it is to the youvg that I would more 
especially address myself, and most of all to the young men that 
are here. 

" There is but a step between you and death !" Do you 
disbelieve it ? Here is " confirmation strong as death ;" an 
endorsement of its truth which you cannot deny. Now, while 
you stand by the coffin of one you knew and respected in life, 
one of yourselves, allow me, with all the deep interest I feel for 
you, to ask you. What do you think of all this .' How docs 
it afiect you r If a dead friend and brother could speak, how 
earnest, how touching, would be his words of entreaty to you, no 
longer to neglect your salvation. And why do you neglect it r 
Why put oil the vast concerns of eternity to a to-morrow that 
may never come .' Your life upon earth is altogether uncertain ; 
no time is yours but the present, and you will surely be no losers, 
but great gainers, by giving your hearts to God in the days of 
your youth, 

A good conscience and a sure hope of everlasting life, are the 
purest sources of joy upon earth ; nothing this world has to ofter 
you can possibly equal them. You have but one short life to live 
upon earth, supposing you even live to old age. Have you no 
desire that it should be occupied in doing good .' Are you 
willing, at the last account which you must give, to be among 
those who have done nothing for the benefit of your race ? Do 
you tell me that you intend to be religious hereafter ? 



11 



What a clolu<i..ii ! evil ha])its will grow with your -rowth, and 
strcncrthcii with your strength; .inful tlesiics will not l.c lessened, 
but iucroascd by indulgence ; and old age, if permitted to see it, 
will find you a hardened sinner, with all your habits of iniquity 

confirniod. 

Why will you run the dangerous risk r Consider that eternal 
life and death are now set before you, in a light so forciblc-in 
colors so sombre, that hard indeed must be the heart that does 
not feel. Oh ! think, I beseech you, think of that which awaits 
you in any event as to time, and may await you even now. 

But this is 'not only the grave of a ijomg man ; it is also 
that of a Patriot Soldier ! 

At the c:ill of a betrayed and suffering country, he forgot the 
comforts of home, the pleasures of the family circle; he saw 
only the red flash, and heard only the booming of the guns that 
wjre turned by traitorous hands against the maternal bosom of 
the country that had nursed them with a powerful vitality. The 
Macedonian cry, '' Come over and help us," that floated through 
every valley, and circled round every hill-top, and penetrated 
every home in our loyal States, was no unmeaning sound to him, 
and he went forth to battle for right, against wrong ; to place his 
body among the tens of thousands of those that should dam up 
the surging stream of traitorous wickedness that threatened to 
sweep over and desolate this fair land, won for us by our fore- 
fathers, given to us by God to be the home of light and liberty, 
and of religious freedom. 

The land of his birth, the heritage of his fathers, called for 
help, and he went. Noble resolve ! Holy and sacred purpose ! 
All honor to those who thus prove that tliey are not the degen- 
erate oftspring of a coward race. We cannot pay too much re- 
spect to, we cannot shed too many tears over, we cannot heap 
too high our tributes of appreciative gratitude on the remains ot 



12 



such men. Let every patriot weave a garland of flowers to lay 
upon such graves, and let their memory be ever green. 

It seems but yesterday that we bade him "good bye" and 
" God speed" in the dangerous and patriotic service he had 
undertaken. We can hardly realize yet that he is dead. He 
died at tlie post of duty, (always an honorable place at which to 
die,) another sacrifice on the altar of that gigantic Moloch of 
wrong, that w.' liave protected so long, are even now hesitating 
to strike to the ground, although with upraised hand and malign 
purpose, it is ready to strike us to the heart. How many gather- 
erings like this has our land seen in the last few months ! What 
multitudes of desolate homos ! What thousands of weeping 
mothers, and wives, and sisters ! of broken-hearted fathers, 
whose grief is too mighty for tears ! What countless mounds in 
graveyards, in distant fields, in lonely swamp, and silent woods, 
and along rivers banks, mark the spots where America's patriot 
soldiery have raised up monuments, more precious than the finest 
sculpture of Italy's famous schools. 

We know but little of the experiences of the last moments 
of our friend. I corresponded somewhat with him, while at 
his post, and took occasion (particularly in one lettn-) to 
press upon his attention that most important of all matters, 
lyrepitrntion for denfh^ using the words of my text to-day as 
peculiarly descriptive of a soldier's condition. He replied very 
kindly, acknowledging the truth of my remarks, and also the 
fact that he was no stranger to the strivings of the Spirit of 
God. There was a tenderness about his letter that was grati- 
fying and hopefid to me at the time. He was a child of the 
covenant, and wo dou1)t not a child of prayer. 

He is in the hands of one who abounds in tender mercy, as 
well as justice. With that assurance we must rest content. The 
Judge of all tlu^ enrtji will do no wrong. Again we say, all 



13 



honor to those who die tlui>', for their «'ouiitry\s (Iclivcranc'. l>et 
all Lfuzj upon the reuiauis und nay " Aiiieu !" 

/ tifiy not furgcl hmreirr thai thin is also the grave of a son. 
My dear friends, I cannot t(dl you how deeply I feel for you ; 
how sincerely I sympathize with you. I'his, I believe is the first 
death that has entered your family circle ; an ('xem))tion enjoyed 
but by very few parents. This is an epoch in your family history, 
for at no time i.-3 the occurrence of death so touchin!.', or its rav- 
ages so visible, as wlien it breaks the first link of the <rolden chain 
that creates the identity of a family. It is an event that is never 
forgotten by the survivois, and that changes all their subsequent 
associations and history. Whichever one of the family it may 
be that first leaves its precincts for the darkness of eternity, 
makes a breach that no subsequent bereavement excels, in a cer- 
tain light. The family thereafter can never be the same as it 
was. A new order of association has been commenced; new 
fountains of feeling and experience unsealed, which, though they 
may afterward flow unseen, will never dry again. Hopes or fears 
are awakened that never subside ; and the mingled web of lifi^ re- 
ceives the hue of a new and darker thread. There is a link gone 
that nothing can replace ; a void created that all subseijuent pos- 
sessions will leave unsatisfied. There may be as much happiness, 
but it is mingled with recollections which make it a far different 
experience from that which it would otherwise have been. 

But whenever occurring, the change made by the passing of 
this fearful shadow over a family, may be the greatest blessing 
possible. God grant that it may be so in your case. 

Death is a great teacher, and often the very kindest of teachers 
The moral nature reaps a blessing from the anguish of the men- 
tal. Wishes and hopes are awakened, which would never have 
had a being otherwise ; sources of pensive reflection and spiritual 
communion arc opened which but for death would have remained 



14 



sealed. You know that sorrow, as well as joy, comes from Him 
who " worketh all things after the counsel of his own will." God 
has some wise and beneficent purpose to accomplish toward you 
in this sad providence. Strive to co-operate with Him ; and 
remember his precious promise, " When thou passest through the 
waters, I will be with thee ; and through the rivers, they shall 
not overflow thee ; when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt 
not be burned ; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee." '' He 
shall deliver thee in six troubles : yea, in seven there shall no 
evil touch thee." 

Your trial is indeed a sore one ; God give you abundant grace 
to bear it. You are no strangers to the sympathy and support 
of Jesus ; and they are still yours. There are not wanting miti- 
gating circumstances about this providence, which are like seams 
of gold running through the dark quartz. Let not the general 
gloom about it prevent you from seeing and appreciating them as 
the evidence of God's tender mercy. Beside others the single 
one of being permitted to receive back into the family all that 
was left on earth of the dear son and brother, and having the 
melancholy satisfaction of weeping over it, of burying it whei-e 
you know of it, and where you may ease the bitter pain of the 
heart by beautif_ying and enriching with the evidences of aff'ection, 
his last resting place. This you will know how to value. Com- 
pare this circumstance with the nameless graves which so many 
hundreds find in common with others. This is love, mercy ; 
value it highly. 

And, in conclusion. Is there not a lesson which all the rest of 
us may learn here .' There are many ways of preaching the gospel 
of Jesus without selecting a text, and standing in a pulpit. 
Wilberforce preached it, in his sphere before the dignitaries of a 
nation ; Hannah More preached it in the polished intercourse of 
the parlor ; Elizabeth Fry, from the gloomy prison cell ; and 



15 



Harlan Page preaclicd it in scattering his tracts abroad. The 
dairyman's daughter murmuring the name of Jesus with her 
dying voice ; and the shepherd of Salisbury Plain, leaning on his 
crook to talk with passers by of Eternity, were all eminent preach- 
ers of the gospel. The saintly Halyburton delivered his most 
impressive sermons on a dying bed. " This is the last pulpit I 
shall ever be in," said he, " let me commend my blessed Lord 
in it." 

There is no more eloquent preacher of the truth of death to 
man, than the mute remains of our dead friends. The simple 
coffin is a pulpit which surpasses far in its impressive power, all 
the decorative art of human ingenuity, by which is sought to im- 
press and solemnize the mind. It stands on an elevation where 
no other pulpit can be erected ; from it may be seen both eter- 
nity and time. It, as it were, unites life and death ; over it the 
living may reach forth their hands, and clasp them with those of 
the dead. 

And what, my fiiends, is preached to us from the pulpit to- 
day .' The subject is familiar, and the text simple enough ; the 
one is Death, the other is prepare to meet thy God. For author- 
ity of its truth it appeals to the word of G od ; for argument, to 
our experience ; and for illustration, to such scenes as the pres- 
ent. Shall we heed the lesson, or shall we go away from this 
preacher, this pulpit, this sermon, as we have gone from so many 
others ? Like one beholding his natural face in a glass, and 
going his way, straightway forgetteth what manner of man he was. 
Let us not be so unwise ; but let us remember that however 
young, however healthy, however filled with this world's good, 
however bright our future prospects, or present enjoyment ; in a 
word, whatever our circumstances or condition in life may be, 
there is but a step between us and death ; that we have to meet 
God ; and that preparation, immediate, careful, minute, personal. 



16 



uud sincere, uccordiug to His free and glorious terms, is abso- 
lutely necessary, if we would have lliat meeting one of joy, a 
meeting of fiiends. 

This, in a few words, is the lesson to us all, contained in this 
uulooked-for and solemn providence. If we profit by it, it shall 
be well ; if not, it shall be all the worse for us. Our feelings 
will have lost more of their sensibility, and our hearts will bo 
harder, and tlu* probabilities that we will ever come to Jesus 
less, and our salvation will be farther removed than ever. 

These are terrible results to flow from such a service as this, 
to all who refuse to take warning. God grant that in not a sin- 
gle instance here may this truth ever be illustrated. And let 
those of us who are making this preparation, be more anxious, 
more resolved, more constant (in the Divine strength) than ever, 
feeling that the Christian is no exception to the general declara- 
tion of the text. Let us v/atch that when the bridegroom com- 
eth, with our lamps trimmed, and lights burning, we may go forth 
with joy to meet Him. Amen. 



r, 

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